


Drift Shift

by PuzzledHats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: ADWD spoilers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Jon Snow/Val/Alys Karstark, Movie Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzledHats/pseuds/PuzzledHats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old Mormont himself had been the one to assign Gendry and Arya as co-pilots days after Arya’s sixteenth birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter was a rough one to write. Hopefully you'll stick with me until the second one!
> 
> Thanks to whoever the anonymous person who requested it. I loved the idea!
> 
> Disclaimer: I have only seen Pacific Rim once. I'm depending on what I remember, Travis Beacham's blog and making up whatever else I need to make it fit. Forgive me! Obvisouly I don't own the rights to any Pac Rim or ASOIAF stuff.

King Robert Baratheon had finally found a use for his numerous bastards. The success of the Stark children as Jaeger pilots inspired him to claim some of his bastards in an attempt to contribute to the cause. The Kaiju attacks were getting worse, Westeros needed all the help it could get.

Thirteen year old Arya Stark had been training with Jon and Robb when Ned introduced Gendry, with instructions to figure out his skill level and show him the ropes.

“Try to take down Arya,” Jon had told Gendry. “So we can gauge your skill level.”

“I can’t fight a little girl, let alone a proper Lady,” Gendry had said in disgust, not understanding the smiles Robb and Jon gave him.

Two minutes into the first round, he was flat on his back looking up at Arya.  The second round only took one minute. Gendry never made the mistake of underestimating her again.

Old Mormont himself had been the one to assign Gendry and Arya as co-pilots days after Arya’s sixteenth birthday.

“Based on your fighting alone you’re compatible,” he had told them. “But I don’t have a Jaeger for you yet and Sam hasn’t gotten the simulator working. In the mean time, continue training together.”

And they did, day in and day out, watching and waiting. Gendry was hard on Arya, always quick to tell her when she was wrong, when she needed to work harder. They pushed each other, always expecting the best of the other. Within the Jaeger program, they were equals. Arya might have been born a Lady and Gendry a bastard, but none of it mattered now that the Kaiju attacks were increasing.

Robb and Ned Stark were killed by the first category four Kaiju ever seen when Arya was eighteen. When Gendry caught Arya pinning a picture of the Kaiju, someone had named Meathead to her wall, he had lightly suggested maybe she should take some time off, leave the program. Arya had only scoffed. From that point on they redoubled their efforts; putting all their free time into learning various forms of fighting.

Arya was nineteen, when she knocked on Gendry’s door after a particularly bad training day, one that had left both of them bruised and angry. She threw the box of condoms on the bed, giving his surprised expression an eye roll.

“Just sex,” she explained. “For the release.”

Her brief fling with Ned Dayne had shown her that she didn’t have the time or inclination for a relationship and she knew Gendry didn’t either. She was particularly proud of this solution; guilt free, strings free sex with her future co-pilot. Love was a commodity Jaeger pilots weren’t allowed, not when Westeros hung in the balance.

“If this was any other time in the history of Westeros,” he said, as he moved to pick up the box of condoms. “They would castrate me for this.”

Arya was twenty-two when she thought they were finally going to get their chance, running to Gendry’s room to tell him that a new Jaeger had been built and was being sent to King’s Landing. They would finally get to fight, get to enter the Drift.

What she hadn’t expected was Gendry’s silence. No excitement, not even a smile.

“What’s wrong with you, stupid?” She asked, reaching out to punch him in the arm. “We’ve been waiting for this all our lives!”

“Arya,” he began, giving her a pained look as he ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at weird angles.

“I’ve asked to be partnered with Edric.”

She knew her mouth was hanging open in shock, but couldn’t seem to get it to close or make any sound.

“I talked to Mormont this morning,” he continued. “I just don’t think we’re compatible.”

“Bullshit,” Arya said, stepping forward to punch him.  His hand flew up to block on instinct. “Yeah, you’re right. We’re not compatible at all.”

Her sarcasm caused him to roll his eyes.

“Why?” Arya asked, she could tell from the set of his jaw, his tense stance, that he meant it. When Gendry made up his mind, there was no unmaking it. She felt like she had been punched in the gut. He had been her partner for so long, how could he leave her now when they were finally going to get their chance.

“Edric needs a partner.” He was lying, she could always tell from the way he shifted on his feet, refused to look her in the eye. Anger boiled within her, after all their training and practice. After everything they had been through together, she couldn’t believe he was turning his back on her.

The following day Old Mormont called her into his office; Jon and Sansa were with him.

“We’ve found you a new co-pilot,” Jon said, nodding his head toward Sansa.

“You’re joking,” Arya laughed. Sansa had only joined the Jaeger program two years before. Old Mormont had begged her to join, thinking her being a Stark meant she would be a natural. But Sansa had spent her formative years playing the proper young Lady Stark. She cared only for her hair, make-up and boys, not fighting. She had been training for two years and still couldn’t beat the most novice members of the program.

The argument that followed left Arya shaking. Sansa insisting she was ready, Jon insisting they were Drift compatible. Old Mormont insisting he had two empty Jaegers in need of co-pilots. Arya had tried to be patient, tried to reason with them, but no one would listen.

The second battle for King’s Landing was one of the worst in the history of the Kaiju attacks. As Arya lay in the crumpled wreckage that used to be Matador Fury, the Jaeger she shared with Sansa, she knew they should have listened to her. Their mistake was clear now and only half of King’s Landing had paid the price.

Her headpiece was crackling, she could hear Gendry and Edric issuing orders, then she heard Ygritte’s screams, heard Jon’s shout of pain.

Arya closed her eyes, wishing she couldn’t hear anything. Sansa was dead and she didn’t care if the world died with her.


	2. Chapter 2

  **-Two years later-**

 

What passed for the lunch room on the work site was silent, everyone crowded around the flickering television at the far end.

“That is the fourth Kaiju attack this week. Officials are denying that the increase is a trend. With the Wall failing our only hope is what remains of the Jaeger program,” said the news reporter, the perfect amount of fear laced through her voice.

Arya snorted into her sandwich, insincerity never sat well with her.

The crowd at the far end of the room began to disperse as the reporter moved on to recapping the Kaiju attacks along with interviews from those who had seen Echo Saber and Nova Hyperion in action.

Lommy was the only one who ambled over to where Arya sat, the rest of the work crew learning long ago to avoid the small, yet surly woman.

“The earlier report said Echo Saber might be recoverable,” he said, sitting across from her. “Of course, it would need new pilots. Pilots are becoming harder and harder to find.”

He gave her a knowing look, carefully observing her. Lommy’s obsession with the Kaiju and Jaegers was well known through out the construction site. He could easily talk for hours straight about it given the chance. He had started seeking her out when he heard her last name.

“I bet they will have to ask retired pilots to come back, probably not enough time to train new ones with the increase in attacks,” he said, when she didn’t respond.

Lommy had not so subtly been prying for information on the Jaeger pilot program since they met. Even once going so far as to bring up the now infamous second battle for King’s Landing.  Arya had only had to punch him once, hard in the face, to get him to never bring it up again.

Arya leveled a hard stare at him now. He got the hint, getting up and leaving her in peace to finish her lunch.

The helicopter was landing as Arya exited the room in to the dim sunlight leaking through the overcast sky. She stood next to Lommy, thinking he might level a ‘told you so’ her way, but he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes instead focused on the lone figure emerging from the helicopter. The awe on his face bringing a scowl to Arya’s.

Jon Snow’s infamy as one of the youngest Jaeger pilots ever, as well as having driven not just one, but two, Jaegers on his own made him well known the world over. He was widely regarded as the best pilot the program had ever seen, having more Kaiju kills to his name than anyone else.

And he was walking toward Arya with that determined look on his face that she knew only meant trouble for her.

“No,” she said before he could open his mouth.

He grimaced at her, flexing his hand in a telltale sign of frustration. Once Jon had been the person she had been closest to in the world. But that was before the Kaiju’s numbers meant Jon didn’t have time for her, before he had to save the world, before being made Lord Commander.

“Are you willing to watch the world burn?” He asked. She huffed at that, rolling her eyes, turning to walk away. “There is no one else. I need you.”

She paused, because she knew Jon. Even if they hadn’t been close in years, she still knew him. And she knew he wasn’t lying

“Arya,” he began. “If it was up to me I would bundle you up and send you as far from the Breach as possible. I would do anything to keep you safe. But the truth is, you’re also the only one I know who can actually help.”

“I tried helping once,” she said over her shoulder, slowly turning around, the anger boiling up. “Do you remember how that turned out?”

He had the decency to look ashamed. “You were ready,” he said. “But you were right about Sansa.”

“You have Bran and Rickon, aren’t they enough?” She deflected. She wasn’t ready to talk about Sansa. Sansa’s dying thoughts haunted her enough as it was.

“They are great. But all our data indicates a massive attack,” he said. “Arya, I need you. The world needs you.”

She rolled her eyes again, “The world can go fuck themselves.”

“If only your father could see you now,” he sneered, turning his back on her, walking toward the waiting helicopter. She was running forward before she even realized it, pushing him hard in the back. He turned around, automatically falling into the defensive position. She mirrored his stance, waiting half a second before attacking.

She hadn’t sparred with Jon in well over two years, but all of it came back to her with alarming clarity. He faked left, she hit right. She kicked his shin, he hit her shoulder. They would have gone on like that forever, until Jon surprised her by standing up and not even flinching when her fist landed squarely in his chest. 

He looked down at her, his face had wrinkles that only someone who had the weight of the world resting on their shoulders could have. He looked more like her father now, far more so then any of his own children ever had. He looked defeated, he looked sad.  

“Winter is coming, Arya,” he said quietly, using the old Stark words as his last attempt to change her mind.

She scowled back at him, hating him for finding her. Hating him for being right. Hating herself more for believing him.

 

The trip to White Harbor was largely a silent one. Neither of them wanted to talk about the harder subjects. 

“What happened to Satin?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Jon said in confusion. “Why would something have happened to Satin?”

“Isn’t that why you came to get me, to be your co-pilot?” There was no doubt that they would be compatible, the only reason they had never been partnered before was because Ygritte had needed a co-pilot.

“No,” he shifted, clearly not wanting to go on. “Satin is still my co-pilot. I have someone else in mind for you to Drift with.”

“Who?” She asked, when he didn’t respond a slow feeling of anxiety crept up her spine. 

Outside the rain drenched windows of the helicopter, the Shatterdome came in to view. Only one person with an umbrella waited to greet them. She reluctantly followed Jon off of the helicopter after it had landed, telling herself she didn’t want to enter the rain, but knowing deep down that she didn’t want to come face-to-face with the person waiting for them.

Jon stopped long enough to pull her under his umbrella before walking forward. As they got closer the umbrella shifted, revealing bright blue eyes staring down at her. 

“Gendry,” Jon said as way of greeting. Gendry only nodded back, not even bothering to look at Jon, his eyes firmly resting on Arya. She fidgeted with her bag under his gaze, before returning his stare and nodding once at him. 

He returned the nod, saying nothing as he indicated with an out-stretched hand that they should follow him inside. Arya sighed, realizing she’d been holding her breath.

“Sam thinks he has discovered something that might help end this,” Gendry began the minute they stepped out of the rain, not bothering to turn around to see if they followed. “Between his research, mine and what we’ve recovered of Tyrion’s work, I think he might be right. I’ll let him explain it.”

They silently followed him through the corridors until they came to Sam’s research lab, various bits of recovered Kaiju and graphs filled the counter tops.

“Arya,” Sam shouted as they entered, a big smile filling his face. He walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. She felt herself begin to smile as he pulled back. “We’ve missed you around here.”

Before she could respond, she felt someone tackle her from behind, lifting her off the ground in a tight hug. Arya laughed, for what felt like the first time in two years. She turned as she was finally placed back on the ground. 

“Two years is too long,” Rickon said, smiling.

“Agreed,” said Bran behind him, pulling her from Rickon’s arms into his own.

Bran and Rickon were the youngest Jaeger pilots currently in the program, Rickon having just turned eighteen the previous month. Between them being Starks and their natural fighting abilities, there wasn’t much debate about letting them join. Signing the consent form allowing Rickon and Bran to join the program when they reached sixteen had been one of the last things Ned Stark had ever done. 

Arya only half listened to Sam and Gendry explain their plan to Jon. She caught bits about a Nuke, closing the Breach, needing DNA of a live Kaiju. Jon wondered if the Iron Throne would renew support, if King Tommen could be swayed. None of it mattered, she would get her orders and follow them. Just like she always had.

Noticing her vacant stare, Rickon mumbled something about food and pulled her from the room with an arm over her shoulder, Bran trailed behind them.

“You’ve grown,” she said, looking up at her little brother. Last time she had seen him, she had been looking down.

“Yes,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. “A lot has changed in the last two years. We aren’t all the same people anymore.”

Arya supposed he meant that the loss of so many pilots was taking its tole. Grief did strange things to people.

“I heard about Davos and Stannis. They were good pilots. Heard they might be able to get Echo Saber back up running. Is that the one I’ll be in?” She asked, not wanting to dwell on the death she had tried so hard to leave behind.

“No,” Bran spoke up from behind them. “You’re back to Matador Fury.”

Arya would have tripped if Rickon didn’t still have his arm around her. He caught her, steadying her. Both brothers gave her concerned looks, but before any of them could speak a voice rang out down the hall.

“Fucking Arya Stark has returned!”

Alys and Val stood there with identical grins, before stepping forward to pull Arya in to a hug. Arya had forgotten about all the hugs.

“Fuckin’ Arya Stark,” Alys said again as she pulled back to look her over. “Two years is too long.”

“Agreed,” repeated Bran. He and Rickon exchanged smiles.

They led her to the mess hall, all talking over the other to fill her in on what she had missed.

“Rickon has been going after the youngest Mormont girl. I told him wolves usually don’t win against bears,” Alys laughed.

“Losing Dany and Jorah has been the hardest, not to mention Nova Hyperion. Completely unsalvageable,” Bran said.

“Your hair needs cut. Want me to do it for you?” Val asked.

“You honestly don’t think I stand a chance with Lyanna?” Rickon asked Alys, sounding a little incensed. “She isn’t that much older than me.”

Arya only sat and listened. She had also forgotten about the noise; the beautiful chatter of people who were completely comfortable around each other. She had forgotten how nice it was to be a part of a pack. They asked her very few questions and she volunteered even less information about the past two years. They seemed to understand, avoiding any topic she might find distasteful.

As the meal came to a close, everyone slowly drifted off. Bran said something about finding Jojen. Val and Alys gave each other conspiratorial smiles, saying something about tracking down Jon. Rickon caught sight of Lyanna Mormont as they left the mess hall, leaving Arya to find her room on her own.

They had assigned her the same one she had had two years ago. As she approached she saw Gendry sitting in front of the door. He wordlessly stood, following her, closing the door behind him. Someone had deposited her bags on the bed, she slowly moved to unpack them, Gendry stepping up beside her to help.

He pulled out the stack of pictures she always had with her, grabbing the tape from the desk to put them on the wall, as Arya unpacked her meager amount of clothes.

Sitting down on her bed, she watched as he meticulously taped up the pictures in a perfect straight line. He remembered the order. Meathead first, Reckoner second, Fiend third, ending with Atticon. When he was finished, he pulled out the desk chair to face the bed and wearily sat down.

“You’ll have to get me a picture of Rachnid to add to my list,” she said gesturing at the pictures. 

Gendry snorted, “I’ll do that. Edric would have loved to know he was worthy of your list.”

They sat there in silence, both lost in thought about former partners. She had heard through news reports that Edric Storm had died from wounds received in the Jaeger days after their battle with Rachnid the previous year. At least Gendry hadn’t been in the Drift with him when it happened. She knew for a fact that there was no worse fate than being linked to your sibling when they died.

“Out with it,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “You’ve had two years to write your lecture.”

“No lectures,” Gendry said. “I wanted to run too. After Edric...”

He trailed off, but she didn’t need him to finish the sentence. She also knew that Gendry would never have run, he was much stronger than she was.

“What I said,” he began, pausing to sort his thoughts. “The night before King's Landing. I was wrong. I never should have said it.”

The night before the second battle in King’s Landing, Gendry had found a semi-drunk Arya in the training room. He had been really angry with her, stating that the ‘perfect princess Stark’ needed to get over herself and start helping. That yelling at Jon or Mormont about being paired with Sansa was a selfish thing to do; couldn’t she see there was no other option. Arya had yelled back that she couldn’t understand why no one else saw Sansa wasn’t ready; couldn’t understand why he couldn’t see that they should be partners. Gendry had yelled back, telling her maybe if she wasn’t so self-centered she would know why. They hadn’t spoken since, not even after the funeral was held for Sansa and Ygritte.

“You were right all along,” he said, when she didn’t respond right away. “Maybe they would both still be here if we had listened.”

He was up and out the door before she could wrap her head around his apology. As she fell asleep that night, the fight from two years ago replayed through her mind. She had been right about Sansa not being ready. But she had also been wrong about herself being ready, she hadn’t been prepared for having herself laid bare to another soul. The official report blamed Sansa for the disaster, saying she had chased the rabbit and caused the Jaeger to malfunction, allowing Atticon to get the upper hand. But Arya couldn’t help but wonder how it would have turned out if she had just trusted Sansa more.


	3. Chapter 3

Skipping breakfast the next morning, Arya found her way to the training room instead, hoping to find it empty. She paused in the doorway at the sound of laughter.  
  
Willow Heddle had only managed to get prettier in the last two years. Her hair was longer, her muscles more defined. Willow had been hired several months before the disaster of King’s Landing as a Jaeger tech. Arya had spent countless hours making fun of Gendry when it became clear Willow wanted him. He had been uncomfortable with her obvious flirting and Arya had loved nothing more than laughing at his discomfort.  
  
Apparently, he had gotten over it, because he had Willow pushed up against the far wall of the room, his head bent toward her neck, whatever he was doing causing her to release small breathy little giggles. She let out a moan when Gendry’s hand moved from her waist to her ass.  
  
Annoyed, Arya turned to leave them to their privacy, not seeing the figure standing behind her, causing her to crash fully in to Hot Pie, whom she hadn’t heard approach.  
  
“Sorry,” Hot Pie yelped, grabbing her arms to steady her. “I was looking for you.”  
  
She took a humiliating moment to glance behind her, Gendry and Willow were separated, both blushing from having been discovered.  
  
“What do you want?” Arya asked, a little more harshly than she intended.  
  
“I,” Hot Pie stumbled, clearly flustered by her sudden anger, he looked over his should at Gendry with a wordless plea for help. “Jon wanted me to find you, so we can test you in the simulator with some of the other pilots.”  
  
“But I thought-” Arya trailed off, turning to make eye contact with Gendry. She had assumed Jon meant to pair her with Gendry; thinking Gendry’s apology the night before had included his denial of their compatibility.  
  
Gendry stared back at her, Willow’s eyes darting between the two of them.  
  
“Oh,” Hot Pie said, drawing her attention back. “Well Gendry and Jon thought there might be a better fit with someone else.”  
  
She turned back to Gendry, this actions behind the scenes making it clear. He still didn’t want to be her co-pilot. Suddenly the anger in her was even worse, threatening to spill over.  
  
“I’ll come when I’m done practicing,” she gritted out, hoping a hard work out would allow her to release some of the anger.  
  
Hot Pie looked like he might object, but didn’t say anything, instead turning around and leaving in a huff. Willow followed him out the door, giving Arya a look of triumph over her shoulder as she passed.  
  
Arya turned then, Gendry remained in the same spot, his arms now crossed over his chest. She ignored him.  
  
 Arya grabbed a training stick from the wall, moving toward the middle of the mat. She tried to remember all the moves her instructor had taught her so long ago. The moves felt clunky, two years out of practice had taken its toll.  
  
She didn’t see Gendry move behind her until her stick came down only to be stopped by his. They said nothing, falling in to their old practice routine. Gendry worked her hard, hitting her with a flick of the stick every time she was too slow, too clumsy.  
  
Before long people started filling up the room, lining the edge of the mat to watch them fight. She wasn’t sure how long they had been at it before she finally got the upper hand, sweeping Gendry off his feet, onto his back with a surprise attack. She stood over him, offering him a hand up, when he grabbed his discarded stick, using the same move on her. She was too slow to dodge it, ending up flat on her back as well.  
  
The room erupted in applause.  
  
Gendry was smiling as he stood, but Arya could only scowl. People she had known over the years came forward then, to congratulate her on her return to the program. It took her ten minutes to get through the crowd and out of the room. Gendry was already in the mess hall when she got there.  
  
“You’re rusty,” he said, as she took a seat opposite him. “But we can fix that.”  
  
She only grunted into her cereal. He didn’t attempt conversation after that, letting her eat in silence.  
  
As she stood up from the table his hand shot out, closing around her wrist, pulling her to sit back down again. When he didn’t say anything right away, Arya broke.  
  
“You don’t want to be my co-pilot,” she ground out. “I don’t care.”  
  
When she moved to stand again, his hand didn’t stop her. But he looked up at her, towering over him and he just shook his head. Not feeling like attempting to interpret it, she stormed out of the room.  
  
That afternoon Arya stood patiently as Sam, Willow and some new techs whose names she didn’t know secured her into the Jaeger simulator. The simulator allowed potential co-pilots to enter the Drift, without running the risk of activating a fully functioning Jaeger. Jon had explained that he had three candidates for her to chose from, her co-pilot would be whomever she Drifted with best.  
  
Beside her, Mya Stone was being connected with the simulator. Arya had always gotten along well with Gendry’s half sister and she hoped their test was successful.  
  
It wasn’t, ending five minutes after they began, both girls too stubborn to give up control and meld. There weren’t enough common memories to hold them. Sam had cheerfully declared it to be the worst test he had ever seen. While neither of them had chased the rabbit, it had left both of them with headaches.  
  
Next up was Jeyne Pool. Jeyne had always been Sansa’s friend, which meant that Arya had spent a lot of time with her. She could see Jon’s logic in thinking that they might be compatible, but ten minutes into their simulation it became clear that their common memories were mainly of Sansa, neither of them able to function around them. There were tears in Jeyne’s eyes as she was released from the simulator.  
  
The last candidate was Aegon Targaryen, he gave her wink and smile as he walked by to be strapped in. Being Jon’s half brother meant that she had known Aegon most of her life, but they hadn’t spent much time together. Once when she was twenty, he had made a pass at her, mumbling something about how his father may have been onto something. She had pushed him away with a laugh.  
  
Arya was surprised Jon was letting him try out, having always indicated to her that he thought Aegon too arrogant to be a good pilot.  
  
The neural handshake began and Arya felt some hope. Their joint memories were few, but enough for both of them to hold onto. Arya initiated the first part of the test and Aegon was quick to follow her lead, until he didn’t like the direction she was going. He grabbed at her mind, pulling her toward the test on a different path. Reluctantly Arya agreed, but he took more control after that, almost pushing her out of the equation completely. Arya fought back and in doing so made him angry, causing him to release memories he hadn’t intended to show her.  
  
Him, angry at his father. Him, angry at Lyanna Stark. Him, angry at Jon for existing. Him, angry at his mother for dying. Him, angry at his adopted father Jon Connington for not letting him into the Jaeger program until he was eighteen. Him, angry at Jon’s success. Him, angry at Gendry’s success. Him, angry at being attracted to Arya. Him, angry at Arya’s rejection. Him, angrily watching Arya and Gendry spar in perfect sync.  
  
The memories swirled so fast that it made her nauseous, causing her to scream for Sam to end the simulation. The world came into focus, she screamed again for them to get her out of the suit. They all worked on her, ignoring Aegon in his. She collapsed on the floor, vomiting, her legs unable to hold her without the support of the armor.  
  
There were hands on her, soothing down her back, turning her over, picking her up. She looked up, expecting Jon. She hadn’t even been aware Gendry had been watching the simulation tests.  
  
“Gendry,” she thought she heard Willow say, as he carried her from the room. But her head felt like it was going to split open, so she couldn’t be sure.  
  
He took her to her room, depositing her on the bed as gently as he could. Jon came shortly after, handing her pain pills and a glass of water.  
  
“What did he do?” Gendry asked, his voice tight with anger. Apparently his dislike of the Targaryen hadn’t changed in the last two years.  
  
She shook her head, not wanting to go in the details, finally saying, “He’s too angry. Or maybe I am. Maybe I’m not compatible to Drift with anyone.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Jon said. “We just haven’t found the right person yet.”  
  
“There isn’t anything wrong with you,” Gendry said.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Jon said, sounding defeated. “I’ll find you someone.”  
  
Jon left then, leaving the two of them alone. Gendry sank down to sit at the edge of the bed, next to her hip. He grabbed the empty glass from her hand, placing it on the bedside table before moving to clasp her hand between both of his.  
  
“I’ll be your co-pilot,” he finally said, looking up from their hands to her face.

“You told Old Mormont that we weren’t compatible,” Arya said, unable to hold the hurt from her voice.  
  
“I lied.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
He sighed at the question, returning his gaze to their hands.  
  
“And you call me stupid,” he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze and leaving with out another word.


	4. Chapter 4

Arya had just gotten to sleep when the alarm sounded. She was up and dressing, her old habits coming back to her quickly. By the time she made it to the control room, most of the pilots had already assembled. She didn’t see Gendry anywhere. Jon stood before the gathering crowd, ready to give orders. Arya felt a pang of loss that Old Mormont was no longer around to do it.  
  
Two Kaiju were detected coming out of the Breach, making their way toward White Harbor. Jon and Satin would lead the attack in Striker Eureka on the larger one. Val and Alys would focus their attention on the smaller one in Mammoth Apostle. Bran and Rickon would provide back up in Vulcan Specter. Jon dismissed them, stepping through the crowd to grab Arya’s hand before she could leave.  
  
“Gendry said he would be your co-pilot. Are you okay with that?” He asked. She nodded. “Good, you and he provide back up in Matador Fury if needed. Okay?”  
  
Arya nodded again before making her way to the control room. The room was abuzz with preparation. There was no sign of Gendry there either. She went in search of him, hoping he hadn’t switched rooms in the last two years. He had always been a light sleeper, she wondered what had caused his delay. As she approached the door she could hear yelling inside.  
  
“You can’t Drift with her,” came Willow’s high pitched scream through the door. She couldn’t make out Gendry’s low toned response, but whatever it was only seemed to make Willow angrier, her yell some how getting louder. “I don’t care if there isn’t anyone else. Please don’t do this.”  
  
Arya shifted on her feet, wondering if she should leave the two to their fight. But before she could make a decision, Willow yelled again.  
  
“Do you love her?”  
  
Arya froze, listening intently. But Gendry must have lowered his voice even further because she couldn’t even hear if he did respond. The next thing she knew the door was flying open and an irate Willow barged through. She stopped short when she saw Arya. Tears were streaming down Willow’s face and for a second it looked like she was going to say something to Arya, but instead she only shook her head and walked away.  
  
Gendry walked through the door a minute later, stopping at the sight of Arya, clearly wondering how much she had overheard.  
  
“Jon wants us on reserve, in case they need us,” Arya said, deciding now wasn’t the time to discuss it. He nodded, looking relieved.  
  
Once back in the control room, she pretended to be absorbed in what was happening, but her mind kept wandering.  Arya shook her head, trying to clear away the confusing thoughts. She forced herself to put the overheard conversation aside. It had merely been the jealous rantings of an insecure woman, nothing more; she had more important things to worry about.  
  
Jon’s voice came over the loud speaker, distracting her from thinking on it further, the fear in his voice causing her to step forward.  
  
“There are three, there are three,” he shouted, before the line cut out. Arya and Gendry were running out of the control room before they even had time to think, making their way toward Matador Fury. A group of techs headed by Hot Pie waited for them, Willow was among them. Arya ignored the pained look she gave Gendry.  
  
Being locked back into an actual Jaeger, left a small trickle of fear in Arya’s mind. Matador Fury had been meticulously remade; the last time she had been in the Conn-Pod threatened to overtake her, using up all will power to push it aside. As her helmet was secured, she saw Willow reach up and pull Gendry down for a kiss. One he didn’t seem eager to return because it wasn’t long before she was pulling back to place the helmet on his head.  
  
As the techs filtered out of the Conn-Pod, Gendry turned to her, a smile on his face.  
  
“Anything you want to tell me before I get a look inside your head?” He asked, his tone joking.  
  
She shook her head, unable to return his smile. His smile faltered when he noticed her serious expression.  
  
“Don’t chase the rabbit,” he said. “And trust me.”  
  
Nodding, she looked back toward the front, feeling the Conn-Pod being dropped into place as the neural bridge was initiated.  
  
The memories whizzed by, some of them familiar, some new, but all of them filtered so easily through Arya’s brain they could have been her own. Every last minute they had ever spent together was there, in perfect sync whirling by her too fast to land on one. Then there was complete and total calm as the world before them returned to perfect clarity. She turned to him smiling. He was already smiling at her.  
  
“Any trouble,” came Sam’s voice through the ear pieces. “How you feeling Arya?”  
  
“She’s fine,” Gendry answered for her. “She’s great.”  
  
They both laughed, euphoria at the final success rising in them. She felt the helicopter lift up the Jaeger, the quickest way to make it to where the Kaiju were attacking the city.  As they were dropped in the water bordering White Harbor, they laughed again, moving forward without even looking at each other.  
  
In the Drift, Gendry let her take lead, but often she didn’t even have to think coherently before he was following her instructions. Their years as training partners was paying off. His mind, his thought process almost seemed to make more sense than her own. The Kaiju in front of them didn’t stand a chance.  
  
As Matador Fury stood over the now torn apart Kaiju, Sam informed them that Jon and Satin, with the help of Bran and Rickon had managed to take down their Kaiju, before turning to help Val and Ayls finish off the last one. White Harbor was safe for another day.  
  
“Come back to the Shatterdome so we can celebrate your first official victory,” Sam said, before closing down the comm link.  
  
Neither of them moved however, both breathing deep, staring down at their kill. She could feel the adrenaline from their victory and successful Drifting drain from both their systems. They both glanced up at each other at the same time. A look of pain crossed Gendry’s face, as his mind began to whirl through more memories than before, memories she knew he had no intention of sharing with her.  
  
She saw herself at thirteen, standing over him in victory.  
  
She saw his mother, holding him tight as a child.  
  
She saw King Robert Baratheon’s funeral, Gendry sitting with his fellow bastards.  
  
She saw him not that long ago, watching Alys and Val as they disappeared into Jon’s room, while Willow pulled him into hers.  
  
 _“She’s gone,” Willow said as she pushed him down on the bed to straddle him, moving her hands under his shirt, dropping kisses on his neck. “But I’m here and you can have me.”_  
  
She saw him moving over Willow, inside of her, naked and panting, but he wasn’t thinking about the girl beneath him. He was thinking about grey eyes, scratches on his back and a moan that was definitely not Willow’s.  
  
His mind pushed her back as his memory began to color, emotion filling him; emotion he didn’t want her knowing. He closed his mind, putting whatever he had been feeling out of reach, closing her off with such force it inadvertently pushed them back into her memories.  
  
The first time Jon taught her to fight. The first time she had seen a Jaeger up close. Her first period, as she went running to Sansa for help. Sansa in the training room. Sansa across from her at dinner laughing at a joke Robb had told. Sansa’s memory of having kissed Sandor after a Christmas party. Sansa in the Jaeger beside her. Sansa’s cry, Sansa’s screams, Sansa’s begging as the Kaiju ripped through her body. _Arya, please, help me._ Sansa’s last conscious thought before she was no more.  
  
Gendry was shouting at her, Arya came to, looking around. They were back in White Harbor, her fist clenched, the power charge in the Jaeger’s hand ready to be discharged at an unsuspecting ship filled with crates.  
  
She took a deep breath, through the Drift she could feel Gendry mentally calm her down, soothing thoughts through her brain until she could feel herself relax. The embarrassment from having lost control replacing the panic.  Gendry must have felt it too, because he seemed to retreat slightly to his side of the brain.  
  
“There was a spike in your vitals,” Sam’s voice came, surprising them both. “Everything all right or, uh, do you need some alone time?”  
  
“Everything is fine,” Gendry answered for her. “We’re coming back now.”  
  
Sam’s question was not unusual; it was common for co-pilots, who weren’t related, to take a while to get back to base. Co-pilots who were inclined, would take the free time in Jaeger to express their intimacy in ways they couldn’t do outside of the Drift. Val and Alys were notorious for this. Alys once having confessed to Arya that it was the best sex of her life, even though there had been no physical touching.  
  
Arya’s questions about how that could be, the memory of the conversation, floated through her mind. She could feel Gendry smirk beside her. Half a hazy, unfocused memory of the first time they had sex hovered on their neural bridge. She turned then to see him raise one mocking eyebrow. She in turn shot back the memory of him fucking Willow. The smirk immediately dropped from his face and wordlessly they began to walk back to the Shatterdome; their Drift suspiciously empty of thought or feeling.


	5. Chapter 5

There were twelve more attacks within five days. The anxiety through out the Shatterdome was palatable. Jon had the Jaeger pilots rotating in twelve hour shifts. He re-assigned rooms, making co-pilots share so that they could easily be found in case of emergency. Willow had made her thoughts on the new arrangement well known.  
  
The Kaiju were getting bigger, stronger, adapting more and more.  They had lost the two older Mormont women on day three of the onslaught. The loss of the pilots as well as the loss of the Jaeger almost brought them to a breaking point, before Brienne and Jaime Lannister showed up from where they had been assigned on Tarth to provide some much needed relief. Their Jaeger, Crimson Typhoon preventing White Harbor from being destroyed completely.  
  
They spent so much time in the Drift now, that Ghost Drifting outside of the Jaeger was becoming more of an issue. The Ghost Drifting shifted day to day, starting out with just glimpses of thoughts, before moving on to feeling any extreme emotion your co-pilot felt. Sometimes whole thoughts seemed to be exchanged, as they all spent more and more time in the Drift.  
  
It appeared to be having an effect on all the Jaeger pilots. Jon mentioned he and Satin sharing a nightmare where Westeros was destroyed. Arya had passed Val and Alys having a stand off in the corridor, fighting with out words. Bran had slapped Rickon hard at dinner, complaining he was sick of thinking about Lyanna Mormont. Gendry had burst out laughing from across the room as Arya made a mental joke about her brothers.  
  
When Aegon had approached Arya as she was leaving the control room, to haltingly apologize for the disaster Drift test, Gendry suddenly appeared at her side even though she knew he had been headed to the showers. He was still sweaty from their recent battle, standing next to Arya, silently challenging Aegon. Arya hadn’t realized how intense her own anxiety had been until Aegon threw up his hands in surrender, leaving them alone. She turned, ready to tell him she could take care of herself, knowing he was angry about her talking to Aegon at all, but before either could speak they caught sight of Willow behind them. She gave Arya a sad look, before walking back down the hallway, Gendry following her.  
  
The worst it got was on the fifth day, mere hours after they had defeated the twelfth Kaiju with the help of Val and Alys. Arya was in Sam’s lab, listening as he and Jon went over a plan to finally close the Breach. Willow had pulled Gendry away the minute she had managed to get him out of the armor in the Conn-Pod.  
  
She was just about to suggest that her and Gendry go with Jon and Satin to execute the plan, when she felt it, a wave of intense pleasure rolling through her body, a single snapshot with it of Willow naked, riding Gendry as he came. She ran from the room, when Jon asked her what was wrong, noticing her blush.  
  
Deciding to avoid the issue completely, she skipped dinner. She went directly to her and Gendry’s room and crawled into bed. She lay there for a while, thinking about the Drift. Thinking about an itch she didn’t dare scratch alone or else face the embarrassment of having Gendry know. Thinking how nice it would be to re-establish a no strings attached sex agreement, if only Willow wasn’t an issue; before she fell in to a restless sleep.  
  
 _There was blood on her hands, she had to get it off. She stripped herself, the shower warm and welcoming. She let it run over her body, scrubbing her hands with soap until the taint was gone. A hand was on her back, her side, reaching around to cup her breast, pulling her body back against a fully hard, well muscled male form._  
  
 _“Arya,” he whispered, his voice husky from lust. He bent his head over her shoulder, her hand going up to run through his hair, pulling his head to the side to reach his mouth. He slipped his tongue in to her mouth, moaning as she sucked on it. His hand on her breast began to concentrate on her nipple, his other hand moving down to slip two long digit inside of her, finding her wet and waiting for him._  
  
 _“Gendry,” she moaned, as he began to move his fingers, his thumb working her clit in the way she liked it. “Now.”_  
  
 _He didn’t have to be told twice. He bent her over, water running down her back, he entered her with a grunt. His hand on her waist pulling her back, she braced her hands on the walls of the shower for leverage. Then he was moving, pounding in to her, hitting that elusive spot just right. It wasn’t long before she was screaming his name, coming apart, distantly feeling him do the same._  
  
Arya woke with a start sitting up, her heart hammering, her face flushed. She turned to look across the small room, toward Gendry’s bed. His eyes were open too, she could hear his heavy breathing, saw the traces of his erection through the sheets.  She collapsed back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, willing her breathing to regulate.  
  
Gendry got out of bed, he hesitated in the middle of the room. Then he was gone, closing the door behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

The following afternoon, Arya found Gendry in Sam’s lab. He had been avoiding her all day. He looked even more exhausted than he had the previous day.  
  
“Seven hells,” she said, without thinking. “You look awful. Did you get any sleep last night?”  
  
“No,” he grunted, shaking his head. “Was up all night fighting with Willow.”  
  
“Oh,” Arya said, having not expected that. “About...”  
  
“Yes,” he said, not needing her to finish the sentence. “She broke up with me, you’ll be happy to know. Accused me of cheating.”  
  
Arya scoffed. She hadn’t realize her feelings about his relationship had come up in the Drift.  
  
“It was only a dream we had no control over. Nothing actually happened,” she huffed. “Why did you tell her, stupid?”  
  
“She overheard Val and Alys talking about dream sharing,” he said, looking away from her to the project in front of him. “So when I showed up last night, hard...”  
  
He trailed off, but she could guess the rest.  
  
“Sorry,” she said, not really knowing what else there was to say.  
  
“No you’re not.” And he was right, she wasn’t. He gave a sigh before continuing, “I wasn’t being fair to Willow anyway. I should have ended it weeks ago. I was too stubborn about making it work.”  
  
She could hear the guilt in his voice, had felt traces of it in the Drift. She didn’t feel like exploring the reason for his guilt, so she ignored his confession.  
  
“Come on,” she said gesturing for him to follow her. “Jon wants us to go scout the Breach, get some stats for Sam.”  
  
He followed her wordlessly. Arya couldn’t suppress the happiness rising up her spine, as they made their way to Matador Fury. She was wondering how long she would have to wait before approaching Gendry about becoming co-pilots with benefits, when she felt his hand on her upper arm jerk her back around to look at him.  
  
“No,” he said, his voice angry. The look she gave him must have conveyed her confusion, because he pulled her closer. “We are not starting that up again.”  
  
He stalked off, leaving her in the middle of the corridor, dumbfounded. Their arrangement in the past had always been mutually beneficial. Or at least that is what she had thought. The sex had always been good, great even. Arya had found it a perfect way to release tension, to relax after training, after worrying about the fate of Westeros. Gendry had always been a willing partner, never giving the slightest indication that he didn’t like their arrangement.  
  
When she made it to the Conn-Pod, Gendry was already strapped in, Hot Pie muttering about losing good techs. Arya noticed Willow’s absence then, understanding she must have transferred to a different team.  
  
This time, when the neural handshake was initiated, it was not the smooth gentle Drift she was used to with Gendry. It was choppy, Gendry’s anger barely held at bay. When she attempted to get in his head, see why he was so mad, she caught a glimpse of the dream they had shared from Gendry’s perspective; her back wet with water, his cock sliding in and out of her and something else, some primal emotion Arya couldn’t get a handle on before he was pushing, changing the memory completely to one of their countless training sessions, free of all emotions.  
  
She looked over at him, but he refused to look at her. It wasn’t until the helicopter dropped them in the ocean, closer to the Breach and Gendry had forced them to relive yet another memory of them training that she had enough.  
  
“Hey,” she yelled, feeling the Jaeger slip through the water to the ocean floor. He finally looked at her. He looked calmer and the Drift felt calmer too. “Are we alright?”  
  
She felt a surge of anger spike through him for half a second before it was gone. He nodded at her, his stubborn will firmly back in place.  
  
The Drift still wasn’t the calm, flowing oasis she had come to expect with him, but it would have to do. They didn’t speak, didn’t even really think about the other as they silently followed Sam’s instructions. Satisfied, they had all the data he needed, Sam shut down the comm link, telling them to return to the Shatterdome.  
  
They silently trudged forward on the ocean floor. Arya wondered how much sea life was being disturbed by the Jaeger’s foot prints, wishing they had figured out a way to make Jaegers swim.  
  
Gendry shot back a memory of Sam explaining to him that if they ever got around to building more Jaegers, he would make sure they could swim. They had both laughed at the obvious oversight.  
  
She turned her head, to see he was looking at her with a small smile. The apology unspoken, she nodded. She still wasn’t sure why he needed to apologize, why he was angry with her, letting the thoughts flow through the Drift. His face took on a pained expression and a single memory slipped out of his head and in to hers.  
  
 _King Robert Baratheon and Gendry watched as Arya left them alone in the training room, throwing one last curious gaze back at Gendry before closing the door._  
  
 _Gendry waited, knowing the King would speak when he wanted, but wondered none the less why he had requested a private word with his bastard son, whose name he regularly forgot._  
  
 _“She’s the spitting image of her Aunt Lyanna,” the King said finally, still staring somewhat wistfully at the closed door. Gendry already knew that, Aegon had a habit of mentioning it to her frequently. Then Robert turned to Gendry, his expression hardening. “I know you’re fucking her.”_  
  
 _Instinctively, Gendry took a step back. He had been sleeping with Arya for the last three years. Any fear he had about repercussion from it had long since dwindled. No one seemed to care that the King’s bastard was banging Lady Stark, not when the Kaiju were threatening to take over their entire world. The only indication that anyone had noticed at all was when Jon had dragged Arya to the Maester for birth control._  
  
 _“You know it can never be, right?” The King asked, Gendry wondered if he imagined the sympathy in his voice. “You’re a bastard and after this war is over the world will remember it once more. She is meant for bigger, better things.”_  
  
 _Gendry said nothing, the pain in his chest, the drop of his stomach; he felt sick._  
  
 _“Plus,” Robert had laughed, “Need I remind you what happened the last time a Baratheon and Stark tried to be together. Those Stark women go where they please and do who they want. Ours might be the fury, but it isn’t enough to tame a she-wolf.”_  
  
 _He stepped forward then, clapping a hand on Gendry’s shoulder and he couldn’t deny the fatherly expression he gave Gendry. “End it now before you get yourself hurt, boy. Find a nice girl, settle down and forget about Arya Stark.”_  
  
The world came back into focus, Arya realizing that they had stopped moving as she processed the memory. Gendry shut her out of any more memories, keeping them in the present, sea life swimming lazily outside the Jaeger. He refused to look at her, even as she quietly asked him to within the Drift.  
  
Knowing he wouldn’t talk about it until he was ready, they took off back in the direction of White Harbor. Arya was unable to keep the memory from replaying in her head on repeat, not caring that Gendry knew she was doing it.  
  
Her status as Lady Stark was so far from her thought process that she often had trouble remembering that life. It has been so long ago, no one had called her by her official title in years and if she had any say about it, no one would ever again. There were more important things to be dealt with, but Arya knew it was more than their birthright that had held Gendry back from Drifting with her years ago. It was right there, just out of her grasp.  
  
Gendry was no help, his side of the Drift mute, only the slightest feeling of trepidation leaking through. As the Shatterdome came into view, Arya finally concluded that maybe Gendry was right in calling her stupid, causing Gendry to laugh out loud next to her.


	7. Chapter 7

For reasons no one was able to explain, the Kauji attacks suddenly stopped. Each day, the co-pilots on duty would wait in the control room, anxious about the next hit. Satin had taken up knitting, while Jon stared intently at the monitor of the Breach. Bran and Rickon had invented a game involving two tennis balls, an empty coffee mug and their shoes. They had tried to explain the complicated rules to others, but the game only seemed to make sense to the two of them. Alys and Val had taken to sleeping while on duty, stretching out on the benches that lined the control room, confident someone would wake them if they were needed.  
  
Arya and Gendry usually sat side by side in silence. They had only exchanged necessary words since their trip to the Breach. Arya had tried to corner him, to tell him just how stupid King Robert had been, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words.  
  
Because, the more Arya thought on it, the less she understood about the King’s intention. Yes, she knew that they were born in different social standings, but she couldn’t understand why that meant they couldn’t Drift together or at the very least have sex. It had just been sex; completely safe, consensual sex, nothing more. But Arya also knew it was more than just the King's talk that had caused Gendry to back off. His insistence of keeping her out of memories where they had been intimate was more than just Gendry distancing himself from Lady Stark. She suspected time in the Drift would sort it out, but they hadn’t been back in their Jaeger since.  
  
After a week of no attacks, Alys and Val with Rickon and Bran in tow, showed up at Arya and Gendry’s room.

  
“Get dressed,” Alys said, when Gendry opened the door. They had just been getting ready to go to sleep. “We’re going out.”  
  
“Where?” Gendry replied, wearily.  
  
“Dancing, drinking, anywhere, just out of this place,” Val said.  
  
Arya didn’t hesitate to agree. Any chance to get out of the Shatterdome, in something other than a Jaeger was too great to pass up.  
  
“Who is on duty?” Arya asked as they walked through the streets of White Harbor, feeling her spirits lift at the fresh salt air.  
  
“Jaime and Brienne,” Val responded. “And of course Jon and Satin are unofficially on duty. We tried to get them to come but in usual Jon fashion he said something about his duty and told us to have some fun.”  
  
“Do you think they’re fucking?” Rickon spoke up, from behind Arya, making her wonder when Rickon had started swearing.  
  
“Jon and Satin?” Alys asked, laughing. “No, although I can’t understand why. They are both fine human specimens. But apparently neither of them swing that way, even thought Val and I had been trying to convince them we could have a lot of fun as a foursome.”  
  
Val let out a hum of agreement, “It would be fantastic. But I guess we will have to settle for Jon.”  
  
Both women laughed at that, while Arya rolled her eyes. She didn’t really want details about Jon’s sex life.  
  
“No,” Rickon said, exasperated. “Jaime and Brienne, are they a thing?”  
  
“I don’t kn-” began Alys, but Gendry cut her off.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“How do you know?” Asked Val, they had all stopped, to look at Gendry. In the dim street lights, his blush was almost concealed. He shrugged his shoulders, looking at Arya.  
  
“Because their room is next to ours,” Arya answered for him. They had meticulously avoided talking about the noises from the other room since Jaime and Brienne had taken up residence.  
  
The group laughed at this and continued to walk down the street until they got to a bar frequented by people who worked at the Shatterdome.   
  
“I wouldn’t mind having my way with Jaime Lannister,” Alys declared, once they had found a table and ordered drinks.  
  
Val nodded, wordlessly lifting her glass toward Alys in agreement.  
  
“Is it really,” Rickon began, before taking a drink of courage before going on. “Drift sex, is it really that great?”  
  
“Why should it matter, you’re never going to experience it,” Bran said.  
  
“I was thinking about convincing Sam to let me use the simulator after hours,” Rickon said, smiling a cheeky grin. “You know, if I can ever convince Lyanna Mormont she wants to fuck me.”  
  
Arya groaned, shaking her head at him. “I don’t want to know.” Rickon only laughed, shrugging his shoulders in a false apology.  
  
“It’s better than you can ever imagine,” Alys said, giggling a little, leaning forward. “Think of the best sex you’ve had-  
  
“Which shouldn’t be hard, since he’s a virgin” Bran interjected, causing Rickon to punch him in the arm.  
  
“...and multiply it by ten,” Alys continued, Val was nodding silently next to her. “I always feel bad for related co-pilots. They really miss out on all the fun.”  
  
“You know, the simulator isn’t such a bad idea,” Val said, slowly clearly lost in thought. “I wonder what it would take to convince Sam to let us use it. Didn’t he have it set up for three people when they were testing the Frey triplets?”  
  
Her and Alys exchanged cheshire cat grins, giggling. Rickon groaned.  
  
“It can’t be that great.” Bran said.  
  
“Denial isn’t going to change that we’re right,” Alys said, grinning. “Tell them Arya and Gendry.”  
  
Arya could feel herself blushing, the Ghost Drift telling her Gendry felt the same embarrassment. The table had turned as a collective to look a them. They both shifted uncomfortably in their seats.  
  
“You mean?” Val asked interpreting their silence, sounding scandalized.  
  
“I thought the break up with Willow-” Alys began, trailing off.  
  
“Enough,” Bran said, standing up. “I don’t want to know about the sex lives of any of my siblings. Come dance with me Val.”  
  
Val happily agreed, effectively ending the conversation to Arya and Gendry’s relief. Alys declared dancing was a great idea, pulling Gendry up to follow them. Soon they were all dancing, Tormund Giantsbane, himself, pulling Arya in to a bear hug before dragging her out to the dance floor. She laughed as he spun her around, surprised with how graceful he actually way.  
  
The group danced until they were out of breath, then laughed until their stomachs hurt from Tormund’s stories about his legendary cock. They drank with out much thought to responsibility or the impending apocalypse. Arya couldn’t remember the last time she had been so content.  
  
Late into the evening, Arya found herself alone at the table with Alys, the pleasant buzz of the alcohol flowing through her system. She watched Bran talking with Jojen in the corner, watched Rickon taking shots with Tormund at the bar, saw Val and Gendry laughing as she tried to show him a complicated dance routine.  
  
“What’s the deal with you and him?” Alys asked from beside her. Arya turned to see her gesturing toward Gendry.  
  
“I wish I knew,” Arya said, shaking her head, the alcohol allowing her to be honest.  
  
“Am I wrong or were you two sleeping together before?” Alys asked, not bothering to say before what; before the King’s Landing disaster was the obvious conclusion.  
  
“Oh yeah, we were,” Arya said nodding, some very pleasant memories of the two of them rolling through her brain. She didn’t attempt to hide her longing stare toward Gendry. He must have felt something of her thoughts, because he met her eye, the smile falling from his lips.  
  
“What’s the deal then? Was he bad in bed or something?” Alys asked, clearly not understanding where the hold up was.  
  
“Oh no, it was amazing,” Arya said, watching Gendry whisper something in Val’s ear before walking out the back door.  
  
“Oh,” Alys said, understanding dawning in the tone of her voice. Arya turned to look at her then, hoping someone would finally explain what she had been missing. Alys shook her head, looking suddenly uncomfortable,  
  
“I didn’t know,” Alys whispered, staring at the door Gendry had left through.  
  
“Didn’t know what?” Arya asked, placing a hand on Alys’ shoulder forcing her to look at her. Alys looked around the room, searching for an exit from the conversation.  
  
“I don’t think it’s my place-” Alys tried to shrug her off.  
  
“Alys,” Arya begged.  
  
“Arya,” Alys said, sadly, her voice more serious than Arya had ever heard it. “Until you’re willing to completely trust and open yourself up to your co-pilot, you will never fully understand the beauty of true Drift compatibility. It goes way beyond being able to fight well together, it’s a whole other world of harmony.”  
  
Alys stood then making her way over to Tormund and Rickon, leaving Arya to her thoughts. Arya wasn’t even aware she was standing, walking toward the door Gendry had left through, until she was outside in a back ally, the gentle rain bringing her back to the present.  
  
Gendry wasn’t there, but she knew where she could find him. Fifteen minutes later, she climbed the last rung of the latter, stepping up onto the scaffolding that had been placed eye level with Matador Fury. Gendry sat, looking at their Jaeger, his feet dangling over the edge, lost in thought.  
  
“Alys thinks I don’t trust you enough in the Drift,” Arya said as she sat down next to him. “But how can that be? We Drift perfectly together.”  
  
“Do we?” He asked quietly, almost like he was wondering aloud at the validity of the statement.  
  
“Of course,” Arya said, indignant. “I trust you with my life.”  
  
“But you don’t trust me with your feelings.”  
  
He still hadn’t turned to look at her, continuing to stare morosely at the Jaeger.  
  
“I don’t do well with feelings,” Arya confessed. After all the deaths she had seen, she took solace in her ability to shut down emotions that might cause her more pain later. Her suspicions about this causing problems during Drifting with Sansa had been haunting her. Sansa had been all feelings; she loved, she laughed, she liked what she liked unashamedly. Arya had rejected it the minute the neural bridge had been established and Sansa had ended up dead. She thought back to the first time Arya and Gendry had Drifted, how he had somehow thrown her in to re-living her Drift with Sansa; how much she had hated that he had seen it.  
  
“I know,” he said, finally turning to look at her.  
  
“But you don’t,” Arya paused, trying to form the thoughts, thinking back through their time in the Drift. She spoke as the realization hit her. “You don’t show me your feelings either. You lock me out when I get too close.”  
  
He continued to gaze at her for a couple more seconds before turning to stare at Matador Fury again. It was clear he wasn’t going to respond to her realization. She hated when he got like this, silently shutting her out. It was annoying enough in the Drift, let alone in real life.  
  
“Arya,” he said finally, having sensed her anger. “It doesn’t really matter. Does it? As long as we keep killing Kaiju, our Drifting isn’t an issue.”  
  
She agreed, nodding. But once they were back in their room, Gendry’s breathe having evened out into sleep, she still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that his logic wasn’t sound.


	8. Chapter 8

Arya returned to her room after a rather brutal training session with Jon, to find Gendry and Willow already there. They sat opposite each other; Gendry on her bed, Willow on his. Arya paused in the doorway, unsure of what to do. It was clear Willow had been crying and she could feel the guilt pouring off Gendry.  
  
“I’ll leave,” Willow said her voice cracking as she spotted Arya, standing as she spoke. “I was just dropping off his stuff.”  
  
“No,” Arya said, anger flaring up inside her. “I’ll leave.”  
  
She took a longer shower than she intended, letting her anger slowly build, wondering how she could convince Jon to let her have a single room again; briefly even considering asking for a new co-pilot. By the time she made it back to their room, she was seething. Gendry was sitting on his bed, clearly having been waiting for her to return. He said nothing as she slammed the door, only stared at her, his expression unreadable.  
  
“If you’re going to start fucking her again, can you at least do me the courtesy of leaving the Shatterdome to do it,” she spat, as she searched for her brush in her dresser. “Maybe some distance will prevent me from having to re-live that hell again.”  
  
Behind her she heard Gendry stand, she turned to see him cross his arms over his chest, the anger rolling off of him.  
  
“I can fuck whoever I want to fuck,” he said, his voice low with anger.  
  
“Of course you can,” Arya said back. “Just don’t make me fuck her with you.”  
  
“I don’t owe you anything,” Gendry said.  
  
“You’ve made that very clear.”  
  
“You’re the one that left for two fucking years. Was I supposed to wait around for you to come back to me?”  
  
“You left first when you decided not to Drift with me,” she spat back, she felt the betrayal of tears forming in her eyes. “No one would have died if you had just agreed to be my co-pilot.”  
  
“So it’s my fault?” Gendry asked, the anger simmering in his voice. “It’s my fault you didn’t trust Sansa enough complete the bridge? I’ve seen in to your head, Arya. You can’t fool me!”  
  
“I would have trusted you!” She yelled back. “Why did you refuse to be my co-pilot?”  
  
“Arya-”  
  
“Why?” She cut him off with her shout, the tears spilling over on to her cheeks. She was finally going to force him to answer the question that had been haunting her for two years. “Why couldn’t you trust me? Why?”  
  
“You know why.”  
  
“No,” she said, trying to get her emotions under control, brushing the tears away. “Because of some stupid conversation you had with your father?”  
  
“Why were you so mad about Willow and I?” He shot back, surprising Arya into silence with the turn of the conversation. He took a step forward. “Why are you angry about the idea of us getting back together? And don’t say some bullshit about Ghost Drifting because you were mad long before then.”  
  
“Because,” Arya sputtered, searching for an answer.  
  
“Why?” He asked again, taking another step forward. She took a step back.  
  
“I don’t-” she began, not really knowing how she was going to finish it.  
  
“Why?” He asked, not waiting for her to finish it. She took another step behind her, her back crashing into the dresser. He stepped forward again until they were toe-to-toe, his arms moving to brace themselves on the dresser on either side of her shoulders. His voice was low and gravely, when he repeated the question again.  
  
“Why?”  
  
He leaned forward, his lips a mere centimeter from hers.  
  
“Why?” His voice was earnest now, no malice or anger left.  
  
Arya steeled herself, forgot to breath. She couldn’t answer him, didn’t like where her thoughts were leading her. He seemed to read her mind though, a sad smile forming on his lips.  
  
“Kaiju spotted,” Hot Pie’s voice shouted banging on their door with his fist. “Jon wants you as back ups.”  
  
Neither of them moved for half a second, their breathing deep. Then it was over, they moved as one out the door.  
  
In the Drift, Arya felt things change in a way she couldn’t quantify. They were focused on watching the battle before them, ready to step in if needed. But there was something else.  
  
It was a shift, so slight that Arya wasn’t able to identify it until the threat of the Kaiju was eliminated. The resentment was gone. Resentment she hadn’t even been aware enough to know was there. Something had changed during their argument. While neither had verbally admitted to anything, the Ghost Drift seemed to have made up for it and with it came a vague agreement.  
  
Her anger over Willow, his denial of their compatibly was both of them turning their backs on the obvious: they needed each other. They had finally, both agreed to accept it.  
  
Back at the Shatterdome, in the safety of their room, they seemed to have reached an understanding neither of them wanted to think too much about, just act on it. Having barely shut the door, they both grabbed for each other at the same time, their kissing deep from the beginning. Their intent clear, pulling clothes off in a hurry.  
  
The Ghost Drift seemed to come more alive, Gendry moving to caress her breast, sucking on the nipple of the other one, pulling tightly just like she wanted. She palmed him through his boxers, before pushing them down with her hands and feet.  
  
They fell on to the bed with a grunt. Foreplay seemed useless, they wanted each other, it flowed through their entire bodies, almost as one; the feeling so intense, Arya knew neither of them would last long.  Arya pushed him off of her, moving to turn onto all fours, having wanted to be fucked this way by him since the dream they shared.  
  
“Fuck,” he said, stumbling off the bed in search of condoms, when he returned he didn’t have to check to see if she was ready; the Ghost Drift provided him with the answer.  
  
And it was a thousand times better than the dream, than she remembered from their past, pulling moans and grunts from both of them at the sensation. One of his arms wound around her waist to pull her back in a decreasingly steady rhythm, his other hand moving between working on her clit and nipples. She could feel his desire rising up in him, bringing him to a breaking point. He shifted slightly, moving her hips at an angle until he hit the perfect spot, increasing his speed while she moaned his name. His desire fused with her desire and she wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended, just pure blissful friction.

“Now,” he said or she said, or maybe they didn’t speak at all, both their brains reaching climax together.  
  
They came at the same time, something they had only ever been able to do a handful of times before.  Arya’s body convulsed, shaking with the power of the release, her leg literally twitching as he thrust in to her one final time.  
  
They didn’t speak, but then they didn’t need too. Silently cleaning themselves up, before climbing under the covers of Arya’s bed. It was too small for the two of them, but neither cared, curling around the other.  
  
“It’s just sex,” Gendry said, repeating her words from so many years ago, as they drifted off to sleep. “For the release.”  
  
She was too tired to explore the flaw in his statement.


	9. Chapter 9

The attacks started happening every day. The Kaiju focused all their power on taking down White Harbor, Sam guessing that the Kaiju thought that was the source of the Jaeger’s power. Jon had been the one to convince Lord Manderly to evacuate the city, thinking an abandoned city was the perfect place to take their last stand, until Sam could figure out a way to get the Nuke through the Breach.  
  
Arya and Gendry were on call when Sam got word of a category two Kaiju coming through the Drift. Arya assured Sam they could handle it on their own. Their acceptance of each other and release of resentment, seemed to stabilize their Drift in a way Arya hadn’t realized was missing, making them almost unstoppable.   
  
Finishing off the Kaiju didn’t take long, the victory felt sweet. Arya sent Gendry an image of him fucking her against the wall. It was a only a figment of her imagination, letting him know exactly how she wanted to celebrate when they got back. She could feel Gendry’s approval. They both wondered together if they should take their time in getting back to the Shatterdome, maybe finally explore the hype Alys and Val had created about Drift sex.   
  
“Three more spotted,” Sam shouted in the comm link, breaking them out of their thought process. “Sending back up.”  
  
“Which category?” Gendry asked, she could feel a slight level of fear rise in him.   
  
“All of them are category four,” Sam responded. “Alys and Val are getting suited up and I’m tracking down Rickon, Bran, Jon and Satin.”  
  
Two hours later, Arya and Gendry were exhausted, having finally taken down the Kaiju assigned to them. It had managed to destroy several city blocks of White Harbor.   
  
They didn’t have time to pause or catch their breath, turning as one to help Alys and Val.  Mammoth Apostle, Alys and Val’s Jaeger, was missing an arm. They could hear through the comm link that Val had been injured, but was still fighting.   
  
“Lure it back to the harbor,” came Jon’s instruction.   
  
Between Matador Fury and Mammoth Apostle, they managed to do it. Jon gave instructions for Arya and Gendry to distract the Kaiju so Val and Alys could make it back to the Shatterdome for repairs. Brienne and Jaime were being suited up and would join the fight as soon as they could.   
  
The exhaustion was starting to cloud their movements, both Arya and Gendry seemed to be a step behind. Arya instructed Gendry to use their remaining missiles, while she charged the power blast. They waited until they were sure they had clear shot. Jon and Satin had somehow managed to trick their Kaiju into leaving the city as well, fighting in the harbor. Arya wanted to make sure their attack was well aimed, not wanting to injure the other Jaeger.   
  
Gendry released the missiles, but the Kaiju at the last moment dodged around them. It threw them off balance, causing Matador Fury to stumble, just barely getting a foothold before falling completely. Arya and Gendry turned the Jaeger around as one, just in time to see the category four Kaiju makes its final and fatal attempt at a retreating, unaware Mammoth Apostle; their screams of warning coming too late.  
  
She wasn’t sure if it was Val’s scream or Alys’ over the comm link, as the Kaiju ripped the head from the Jaeger, crushing the skull with its talons and holding it underwater. Arya and Gendry moved forward but they weren’t fast enough.  The power blast was still charged, deploying with a mutual shout. It hit the Kaiju square in the head, blasting a hole through its brain. It fell heavily to the ground, dead.  
  
Matador Fury seemed to run forward with a mind of its own, reaching in to the depths of the ocean to retrieve Val and Alys’ Conn-Pod. The Jaeger fumbled, searching, grasping around to no avail.  
  
“They’re gone,” came Sam’s quiet voice over the comm link.  
  
“No,” both Jon and Arya shouted at the same time. Matador Fury became more desperate, kneeling in the harbor, placing their Conn-Pod below the water level to see through the dust of sand that it had mixed up.   
  
“Their vitals have stopped responding,” Sam whispered, just as they spotted the Mammoth Apostle’s Conn-Pod. Matador Fury pulled it above the water, watching as the now broken eye sockets drained to reveal two lifeless bodies.   
  
“They’re gone,” Gendry confirmed, his voice emotionless, the comm link going eerily silent.   
  
No one spoke as the remaining Jaegers walked back, Matador Fury gently setting down the Conn-Pod with their deceased friends in it onto the floor of the Shatterdome before moving to their docking station. The second Arya was free from her suit, she took off in search of Jon, catching him as he exited Striker Eureka’s Conn-Pod with a distraught Satin trailing behind him, pulling on his arms to stop him. Jon only shook him off and ignored Arya’s pleas as well, leaving Satin and Arya to follow in his footsteps.   
  
Sam had taken refuge in his lab, he was sitting on a stool, his back to the bomb he’d been working on. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Jon entered, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and slamming him into the bomb behind him.   
  
“This ends now,” Jon’s voice was low, fury pouring out of him. “Don’t eat, don’t sleep, don’t shit, don’t even think about leaving this room until that bomb is done.”  
  
Jon waited long enough for Sam to nod before pushing him against the table again and storming from the room. Arya moved to follow him, but Satin stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Don’t,” he said. “He grieves alone.”  
  
Arya nodded, knowing Satin knew better than she did. She felt a hand grasp hers, she turned to see Gendry, having not known he had followed her.   
  
“Go get some rest. We are going to have to go with them once the bomb is working,” he said, his voice and face still devoid of emotion.   
  
“What about you?” Arya asked, not wanting to be alone.  
  
“I helped design some of this,” Gendry said, motioning to the unfinished bomb in the center of the lab. “I can help.”  
  
At her hesitation, he pulled her close, kissing her on the forehead, before dipping his head to whisper in her ear.  
  
“I’ll be there as soon as we get it working.”  
  
Arya didn’t remember the walk to their room, didn’t remember stripping and climbing into bed. Didn’t remember falling in to a dream filled sleep of her loved one’s dying screams.   
  
She awoke when Gendry entered the room, the alarm clock telling her it had only been a couple of hours.  
  
“Is it working?” She asked, moving to stand up. His hand on her shoulder stopping her, pushing her back toward the bed.   
  
“We finished the schematics,” he said, pulling clothes off his body. “Now Sam just has to finish running the numbers and build the last component. Should be ready in the morning.”  
  
Once he was naked, he pulled back the covers, nudging Arya aside with a bump from his hip. She waited until he was settled on his back, before pulling herself close to his body; her arm over his chest to rest on his bicep, her legs intwined with his, her head resting on the joint of his arm and shoulder.   
  
It was almost as if they were in the Drift, the sorrow passing between them real and unobstructed. Gendry turned them slightly, until they were chest to chest, every limb wrapped around the other person. They held on tightly, Arya distantly knowing they would both have bruises when they woke up, not caring, only digging her fingers in tighter on his back, feeling him do the same.

Arya had spent most of her life trying to stamp out any emotion that would get in the way of fighting, thinking it wasn’t possible after Sansa’s death. Attachment was too costly, so she had ran from the people she loved most in the world for two years, thinking physical distance would help. Thinking somehow it would hurt less when they were gone.   
  
But it was just another mistake in the long list of them that represented Arya’s life. Arya knew now; knew that real unconditional love between family, friends or lovers couldn’t be dampened by distance. The pain would always be great if it was lost.   
  
Neither of them cried, but they did allow themselves to mourn, because Val and Alys deserved to be mourned. They deserved far more than that, but Arya and Gendry knew the final fight was coming; knew they might not have the time to properly celebrate the lives of two incredible women.   
  
So they mourned, together.  
  
And when the sorrow became too great, became too much; they made love. It wasn’t fucking for the first time in their history together. It was deep eye contact, deep meaningful kisses, as deep as they could possibly go. Pulling and giving, until they were both moaning, letting out small gasps as the pleasure to flowed through their nerve endings. They were alive for the time being, they allowed themselves to wallow in this simple, base human action.   
  
Arya couldn’t say the words, couldn’t find a way to form them. Instead giving him all she had, hoping the Ghost Drift was enough for him to know how she felt; how much he meant to her. Crying out his name as her climax took her, holding onto him for dear life.    
  
Tomorrow they would face the apocalypse, tonight they lived.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, there are some very big Pacific Rim spoilers in this chapter. I've kind of mixed and matched some of the Jaeger's abilities and co-pilot actions, but if you don't want to know something of how Pacific Rim ends, I suggest not reading further:)

They awoke the next morning, still tangled in each other’s limbs, to a soft knock on the door. Gendry moaned, moving to throw on a pair of sweatpants before opening the door just wide enough for his head to fit through.

“Sorry to wake you,” Arya heard Bran say from the other side of the door.  “But Jon has some ridiculous notion about going into the Drift alone. I need Arya to talk some sense into him.”

Arya sprang out of bed, getting dressed while she heard Gendry tell Bran that they would be there as soon as possible.

They could hear the yelling from the control room as they approached, walking through a door to find Jon at one end of the room, facing off against the crowd inside.

“It’s too dangerous,” Jon said.

“Which is exactly why you should let us go with you,” Brienne said from the front of the crowd.

“The wench does love danger,” Jaime said, with a grin, causing Brienne to roll her eyes before returning her attention back to Jon.

“I can-” Jon began, but Satin stepped forward, raising a hand to silence him. 

“You’re a noble idiot,” he said with disgust. “Just because you’ve manned two Jaegers on your own doesn’t mean you can do it again. And if you think you’re going to fucking leave me behind after everything we’ve been through, than you’re delusional. If you need me, I’ll be getting strapped into Striker Eureka.”

Satin turned then, leaving a shocked Jon behind.

“I agree with the former whore,” Jaime said, smiling. He grabbed Brienne’s arm, pulling her toward the door. “If you need us, we’ll be suiting up, ready to leave when you are, Lord Commander.”

Jon watched them leave, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side. When Bran and Rickon moved forward, clearly meaning to follow Satin’s example as well, Jon threw up his hands in anger.

“No!” He bellowed. “I am giving you a direct order, under no circumstance are you to approach the Breach, let alone your Jaeger.”

“But-” Rickon began, looking affronted.

“No,” Jon said again, turning to look at Sam. “I will gladly go to my death to secure the future of Westeros, but at least give me the peace of mind of knowing what little family remains to me survives to live in it. Don’t let them near the Jaeger, Arya included.”

Sam nodded, the only one in the room with power to stop them from activating the neural bridge. The shouting became deafening, Bran and Rickon both irate over Sam’s agreement. Jon ignored them, leaving the room. Arya followed after him.

“I won’t change my mind,” Jon called over his shoulder when he saw her following.

“I know,” Arya said, and she did. Even if she didn’t agree with Jon’s decision, she perfectly understood the logic behind it. Given the chance, she would have made the same choice.

He slowed then, allowing for her to walk beside him. In silence she helped him get into his suit, the lump in her throat growing. Outside of Striker Eureka’s Conn-Pod, where Satin was already buckled in, he paused, looking at her.

She hugged him then, the armor he wore not allowing her to hug as tightly as she wanted to but she knew he understood. Jon pulled back, ruffling her hair like he used to do when she was a child.

“I was wrong,” he said, taking a step back. “Ned would be proud if he could see you now.”

“He would have been proud of you too,” Arya said, knowing it be true. “He always saw you more as a son, than a nephew.”

Jon smiled sadly back at her.

“Val and Alys-” Arya began, but Jon just shook his head, his smile somehow growing while his eyes only got sadder.

“At least they got to die doing what they were best at,” Jon said gravely, before a laugh escaped him, his smile turning genuine. “Well, second best at any way.”

Arya smiled back him, letting out one bark of laughter.

“I’ll see you in the Drift, kiddo,” Jon said, his face becoming serious again. She gave him one last wave before he turned and entered the Conn-Pod.

Back in the control room, Gendry was waiting. He raised an eyebrow in question, but she only shook her head, letting him know she was okay. Saying good bye was never easy, but sometimes it was necessary and she would never begrudge the chance to do it again.

They sat with Rickon and Bran on the benches in the back of the room, listening to Jon, Satin, Jaime and Brienne’s voices over the loud speaker as they approached the Breach.  Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until the overhead alarm indicating an attack sounded. Sam rushed over to the monitoring system, fear etched on his face.

The room became tense as they heard the sounds of Jaegers fighting Kaiju on the ocean floor. The creaks, the metal working, the occasional shout from one of the pilots. 

“Seven hells, one got away,” Jon said over the loud speaker. “Send Matador Fury, we have to close the Breach.” 

Arya and Gendry were ready in record breaking time. With the help of a helicopter, they were able to intercept the first category five ever recorded before it got with in four miles of White Harbor.

The fight was a grueling one, working them harder than they had ever worked before. The Kaiju somehow ended up toppling them over, the Jaeger on its back before either Arya or Gendry could register it.  In a flash of genius, as the Kaiju leaned over for the kill, Gendry sent her an image of their first time sparring together after her two year absence, of him using her move against her to level her to the ground. Arya improvised, using the Jaeger’s arm in place of the training stick. As the Kaiju fell, Matador Fury rose, charging one final blast, aiming it directly for the Kaiju’s head.

Their victory was short lived however, shouts from Jon over the comm link telling them they needed back up.

“There are too many,” Jon whispered, then the comm link cut out.

It was not easy to run long distances in the Jaeger, but the fate of the world rested on them making it there before it was too late.  The mess was worse than either of them had anticipated. Crimson Typhoon was down, the Kaiju swarmed over it trying to get inside. They could hear through the comm that Jaime and Brienne were still alive, trying to get their Jaeger to stand again.  Striker Eureka was fighting a losing battle against the Kaiju, using a sword to slice the heads off whatever Kaiju it could reach, but it wasn’t enough.

Jon must have spotted them, because he called for them to distract the Kaiju if they could. Once again Gendry shot her the solution, an old image of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen standing near the Breach, trying to get through it, Kaiju swarming them.

Matador Fury moved forward, sticking one arm down, touching the Breach. It worked, the Kaiju abandoned Crimson Typhoon and Striker Eureka making for them with a speed Arya didn’t know they possessed. 

“I just have to stuff this nuke in to one of them, then push it through the Breach.” Jon said, his voice crackling over the comm link. “Hold them off until we can come help. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Arya felt Gendry laugh beside her, because of course they were going to do something stupid. It was obvious that they couldn’t win against so many Kaiju, who had reached them, tearing at the Matador Fury’s armor. They couldn’t seem to power up the charge fast enough, running out of missiles in no time. Striker Eureka was stuffing a bomb in the chest of a nearly dead Kaiju, moving toward the Breach. Both Arya and Gendry realizing at the same time that the Kaiju were not going to be distracted for long. 

This time it was Arya who had the solution, sending an image of the nuclear reactor that powered Matador Fury. There was only one option to save Striker Eureka, to save Crimson Typhoon, to save Westeros and everyone they had ever loved.

He turned to look at her, calling out for her over the neural bridge. She could feel his resolve meld with hers, but looking him in the eye would have been enough. He knew it was the only way too.

“Arya,” he whispered or maybe he only thought it, she couldn’t be sure.

Then it hit her, every memory they had ever shared, every moment and for once he didn’t hold anything back.

He loved her. Had loved her. Would always love her. 

The memories washing over her like a warm bath. The first time she gained his respect after their first sparring match. The first time he found her pretty; she was standing over him at seventeen laughing at having defeated him again. The first time he wanted to kiss her; they were sitting side by side staring up at Matador Fury, speculating on how great it would be co-pilot it together. The first time he wanted to fuck her; she was in his room, sitting on his bed telling him a story about Aegon getting his ass beat by Jon. The first time he realized he wanted to date her; she had punched him in the arm for saying Rickon was too young to join the training program. The first time he knew he loved her; she was crying silently in his arms at the news of Ned and Robb’s deaths. The first time they had had sex; he had cherished every moment, disappointment filling him as she left his room too quickly after.

And finally, the answer to the question that had disturbed her the most, why he had refused to be her co-pilot. It was the first time he realized she would never return his feelings; they were in the mess hall, Sansa was complaining about Willow hitting on Gendry, when clearly he was Arya’s boyfriend.

_“He’s not my boyfriend,” Arya had spat, standing up to stare down Sansa. “This isn’t one of your stupid love stories Sansa. We’re at war. There isn’t time for love.”_

_She stormed out then, oblivious to Gendry’s heartbreak. He avoided the sympathetic look Sansa was giving him, instead leaving, retreating to his room. He tossed and turned that night, cursing himself for thinking someone like Arya Stark could ever love him, knowing he had to end it before both of them got hurt. The Drift could be dangerous enough, but adding in unrequited love was always a recipe for disaster._

There were other memories too; his first time confessing his feelings for her to Hot Pie, who had only given him a sympathetic pat on the back.  Arya walking away from him, bag slung over her shoulder not to be seen again for two years. Watching her step off the helicopter, somehow having grown more beautiful in the last two years. The feeling of contentment as they sparred for the first time in so long, how right it felt, how much he craved it. His feeling of unease as he watched Aegon be strapped in to the simulator with her. His excitement of being her co-pilot, coupled with his fear of her discovering just how much he loved her. His anger at Arya as they sunk to the ocean floor to examine the Breach, furious that she couldn’t see how devoted he was to her, furiously believing she was unable to return the sentiment.

The last memory was from the night before.

_He was moving inside of her, staring down into her grey eyes, he could die then and there because life would never get better. He knew Arya was giving him all the affection she was able to give, everything she couldn’t verbalize was in that stare. He wasn’t sure if she loved him, but he knew whatever it was, in Arya’s mind her feelings for him went deeper than any friendship love, any romantic love. And that was enough._

Arya shook her head as the memory faded out, focusing back on the present, Gendry giving her one sad smile. She returned the smile. He knew she couldn’t say, didn’t have the ability, so she opened herself completely to the Drift. She let him see all of her, all her crazy messed up notions of the world and the people in. All her attempts to hide from attachments, while forming them in spite of herself.

But most importantly she let him see just how much he meant to her; confirmed that in her mind, their bond transcended any human vocabulary, any stupid label someone would want to put on it. They belonged to each other, with each other.

He nodded, no longer smiling, his sad eyes telling her he understood; knew that because of their stubbornness they had missed their chance.

Then they were both looking forward again. The Kaiju on their side had managed to rip off one of Matador Fury’s arms, two more were working on its leg, another fighting to get in to the chest of the Jaeger.  Arya issued the command to self destruct.

They both hit the escape pod button at the same time, staring at each other.  
  
Then there was only fire and blackness. 


	11. Chapter 11

The beeping of the heart monitor woke Arya up, the dim lights of a hospital room slowly bringing the world back in to focus. Her head hurt, her body ached and she took a moment to make sure all her limbs were still attached, still functioning.  
  
Satisfied, she turned her head, Jon was sleeping in a chair next to her bed, his chin resting on his chest. There was no one else in the room, causing panic to rise up her spine. She sat up, hitting Jon on the shoulder. He jumped up, looking blearily around before realizing she was awake.  
  
“Gendry?” She asked the only question that mattered.  
  
“He’s fine,” Jon said, reaching up to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, pushing her back to lay down. “You’ve been out two days. Took Sam, Bran and Rickon to drag him out of here, insisting he needed sleep.”  
  
Arya felt the tension leave her body instantly, relaxing back on to the pillow.  
  
“The Breach?” She asked. “Satin? Jaime and Brienne?”  
  
“The Breach is closed,” Jon said, smiling. “Satin, Jaime and Brienne are safe, thanks to you.”  
  
Arya nodded, a weight lifting from her shoulders she hadn’t even known was there.  
  
“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Jon said, but he was still smiling. Arya smiled back, letting out a small grunt of laughter.  
  
“With a co-pilot like Gendry, what did you expect?” She laughed, before quieting, her thoughts turning to the future. “What now?”  
  
“The Jaeger program is no long needed. We get back to living,” Jon said, his voice sadder than the situation warranted. “Rickon and Bran are talking about rebuilding Winterfell. Satin wants to retire to a cabin in the woods, alone. Sam’s thinking about going in to the private sector, building smaller Jaegers for rich people.”  
  
Arya laughed at the idea, before asking, “And you?”  
  
“Me?” Jon sighed, clenching and unclenching his hand. “All I’ve ever known is fighting. I don’t know if I would be good at anything else.”  
  
Arya almost suggested he start a family, but knew that would only bring up memories of Alys and Val. Instead saying, “Maybe you should retire to the woods, like Satin.”  
  
Jon laughed at that, leaning forward to take one of her hands in his. “What about you? What will you do now?”  
  
Arya had no answer for him, a future without Kaiju having never been a possibility before now. When she didn’t respond, Jon squeezed her hand.  
  
“King Tommen has offered to legitimize Gendry, make him Lord of the Stormlands,” Jon offered. Arya felt a lump in her throat. “But Gendry turned him down, told him to give it to Mya.”  
  
Arya laughed, ignoring the confused look Jon gave her. Relief filled her, knowing Gendry was still a bastard. She didn’t want to be with the Lord of the Stormlands. She only wanted Gendry.  
  
A few days later, Arya stood with the remaining Jaeger pilots and Jaeger techs as Jon emptied the contents of two urns in to the harbor. There was no eulogy, crying or gnashing of the teeth. Alys and Val would have wanted it that way.  
  
The crowd slowly dispersed, everyone heading off to the bar in town with plans to drink the night away in memory. Arya and Gendry waited with Jon, until he turned to them unshed tears in his eyes.  
  
“It’s over,” he said, with a small watery smile and a shrug. Then he walked around them, leaving them staring out in to the harbor.  
  
“What happens now?” She asked, the question had been bugging her ever since Jon had brought it up. Gendry moved, pulling her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her. She felt him place a kiss on the top of her head.  
  
“We live,” he said simply.  
  
“We live,” she repeated, thinking it sounded easier than it actually was. He squeezed his arms tighter around her. She turned then so she could look him in the eye when she asked another question that had been annoying her.  
  
“Together?”  
  
“Together.”


	12. Epilogue: This is Gendry’s after

The whole thing is ridiculous, Gendry knows that. How silly to think that anything would change outside the Drift.  
  
Arya loves him. Even if she can’t say the words, he knows; has literally read her mind. Her love is absolute, paramount.  
  
But when he catches her laughing a little too loudly at Jaime’s jokes or in deep conversation with Sam, he can't help the old feeling that he isn't enough. There are other men, better men and why would she continue to love him when they might be an option.  
  
It makes him miss the Drift, makes him miss the total certainty of knowing how she thinks, how she processes the world around her.  
  
He over compensates. Eating her out in the supply closet after lunch; fingering her in the shower until the water runs cold, losing count of how many times she comes. Any chance he has at getting her off, he takes.  
  
She notices. Of course, she notices.  
  
He holds her a little tighter one night, after she had refused to let him finish her with his mouth; working on him until they came together.  
  
"Maybe we should get married," she says, pulling her self tighter against his body.  
  
He laughs, because how else is he supposed to respond?  
  
"Maybe then you'll stop thinking I'm going to change my mind."  
  
That wipes the laugh from his face and his mind. Because of course he wants to marry her, wants to bind her to him in every possible way. But he also knows her thoughts on marriage, seen in the Drift that she never wanted to get married, doing so would bring the law into things, make her sign her name Lady Stark. And Arya was not now, nor would she ever again be, Lady Stark. Gendry knew that, Gendry understood that, Gendry wishes he could change her mind.  
  
So he ignores her statement all together, pretending to have suddenly fallen asleep.   
  
They’re making out in the bathroom, as Jaime and Brienne’s wedding reception rages on the other side of the door. He has her hoisted on to the counter, his hand up her skirt, almost to his destination, when she brings it up again.   
  
“Let’s get married,” she sighs. He stops, leaning back to see her face. She is flushed with arousal, her lips red and plump. He raises an eyebrow at her. She shrugs, her voice returning to normal. “Think about how kick ass our reception would be. Think about how great it would be to sneak off in the middle of it for some mind blowing sex.”  
  
He laughs, then grunts, pulling her head toward his, his hand moving to pull aside her underwear. She’s already working on his fly. And when he’s finally inside her, he takes a moment to breathe. Because this is all he will ever have of Arya, this is as close as they will ever be outside of the Drift.  
  
He forgets about her proposal completely when she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him in as deep as she can.  
  
Gendry follows Arya wherever she goes. He’ll always follow her. They travel around Westeros, never settling and he tells himself he’s happy, that he would be content to do that for the rest of his life. When Jon asks them to return to the Shatterdome as guest teachers for a couple of weeks, Arya of course says yes and Gendry says yes, because Arya did. Jon has single handedly kept the Jaeger program alive, training new pilots in the off chance the Kaiju return.  
  
Gendry hates him for it. Hates him for having a point. The idea he and Arya might have to fight again, put their lives on the line, risk losing her; it drives him crazy.  
  
So when he comes to the training room to see Arya sparring with Aegon, he kind of loses his shit.   
  
His fury is blinding and it’s only the presence of the students that keep him at bay. Gendry knows, objectively, that Arya and Aegon are merely sparring to show a new fighting technique.  
  
But it makes him want to hurt, makes him want to attack. So instead, he runs.   
  
Their Ghost Drift must have re-activated, because Arya finds him seconds after he’s closed the door to their room. She doesn’t hesitate, taking a running leap at him, kissing him as fiercely as she can. And he can feel her thoughts, her commitment to him, her absolute need of him, knows she’s pushing it at him through what remains of their Ghost Drift.   
  
And it’s enough, to calm him, to steady his heart.   
  
“Marry me,” she says, as he thrusts in to her, his orgasm hitting him hard. In that moment, still inside her, with so much pleasure coursing through his body, he almost says yes. Almost gives in, but then he meets her grey eyes and knows he can’t. He loves her too much to ask her for such a big sacrifice.   
  
The freshly reconstructed great hall at Winterfell is loud with the voices of the men of the North, all celebrating the birth of Rickon and Lyanna Mormont’s son; when she tugs on his hand.  
  
“Take a walk with me,” she says and he follows, because he will always follow.   
  
He doesn’t notice that she has a bag slung over her shoulder until they’re deep within the godswood, the weirwood tree looming over them. From it she pulls something Gendry can’t quite make out, until she unfolds it.   
  
It’s a cloak, one of yellow and black that she holds out for him.  
  
He takes it, staring down at the Baratheon sigil someone had stitched on to it, his mind refusing to process it. When he looks up, Arya has already tied a grey cloak around her own shoulders, the Stark coat of arms visible on her chest.   
  
“Put it on, stupid.” she says, but the insult has no sting. She’s smiling, it’s genuine, it’s real. He ties the cloak around himself. She pulls him in front of the weirwood, before dropping his hand. He knows the smile on his face is ridiculous, knows this is a very serious moment, but he can’t seem to stomp down the joy he is feeling.  
  
This is an old tradition, long since abandoned in Westeros; so he doesn’t know where to begin, waits for her to lead.  
  
“I am Arya of House Stark here to be wed. Who comes to claim me?”  
  
He isn’t sure of the proper wording or the right way to do it, depending solely on instincts.  
  
“Me,” he says, reaching forward to brush aside the hair that has fallen over her face. “Gendry, a mere bastard with no last name. Will you take me?”  
  
“I take this man,” she whispers, the sincerity in her eyes enough to undo him. He moves to kiss her but she pushes him back with a laugh and a shake of her head. He gets it, not yet. She grabs his hand, clasping it tightly as she turns to the weirwood, the face almost looks as if it has changed, as if it’s smiling with its gaping mouth. She kneels before it, tugging on his hand to join her. She bows her head in submission, in prayer.  
  
Gendry does too, for the first time in his life he prays to the Old Gods. He thanks them for her, swears to love and protect her, vows to never let go. The wind ripples through the godswood, it almost sounds like laughter.   
  
He’s not sure how much time passes, but he feels Arya’s hand tighten on his, pulling him to stand. He leans in to kiss her, but she laughs again, pulling back, shaking her head, pointing toward the cloak on her shoulders. He laughs, he had forgotten.   
  
A raven quorks over head, as he leans forward, carefully untying the knot under her chin. He watches her shiver as he slowly removes the cloak from her shoulders, folding it, placing it as a sacrifice before the weirwood. Then, with even more care he removes the cloak from his own shoulders, moving forward to swing it around her.   
  
He gets as close as he can with out actually touching her, tying the knot under her chin with great care, not wanting it to ever come undone. When he’s satisfied, he looks up to see she is already looking at him. She laughs, he laughs and then her hand is around his neck pulling him into a kiss.   
  
And he knows that this small, unofficial ceremony means more to her, more to him, than any legal document ever could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'est tout!
> 
> First, thanks to the anonymous person who left me this prompt. I don't know if you've been reading this, hate it or wanted something completely different, but I do want to thank you for giving me such a great idea. I had a lot of fun writing it! Thank you!
> 
> Second, to my beta SigilBroken, thanks for not laughing at me and making sure I don't look absolutely ridiculous with my inability to spell basic words or grasp important grammar lessons. Thank you also for writing Arya/Gendry into your latest fic adventure. You write them better than I could ever hope to, thanks for showing me up!
> 
> Last and most importantly, thanks for all the people who have read, commented or left kudos. It is always nice to know other people like what you've created, even if it is something crazy like another sci-fi au. But I swear, I would never have written it if I hadn't gotten that prompt. I'll try to stop from here on out! :)
> 
> Thank you!


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